


I've Got You Under My Skin

by SomewhereApart



Series: Shutterbug [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, OQ Prompt Party 2020 (Once Upon a Time), Shutterbug verse, Tattoos, oq au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:41:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25800760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomewhereApart/pseuds/SomewhereApart
Summary: It's time for Robin to fulfill part of his deal with Regina.
Relationships: Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Robin Hood
Series: Shutterbug [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1871833
Comments: 11
Kudos: 38





	I've Got You Under My Skin

**Author's Note:**

> For OQ Prompt Party 2020. Prompt: Shutterbug verse: Robin gets tattooed by Regina.

It’s not wise.

It is, in fact, incredibly foolish. He’d agreed to let her tattoo him in exchange for her letting him photograph her, and it had seemed sensible at the time. Tattoos weren’t all that taboo anymore, she’d promised to choose something tasteful, and it had made sense—trading his work for hers. Each of them a canvas for the other. 

But then they’d gone on that date. And then one after. And the one after that. She’d waited three whole dates before reminding him he owed her a tattoo, and now he’s not just being tattooed by the woman who works at the tattoo parlor next door, he’s being tattooed by the woman he’s _dating_. He’s a romantic—an utter, besotted fool most days, honestly—but he hears John in his head. Hears him lamenting about those tattoos he and Tink had gotten when they’d been dating—no names, no portraits, just a tandem tattoo trip that now and forever reminds him of his ex.

So it’s not wise, letting her give him ink now that they’re dating. It could go poorly and then he’d have to spend the rest of his life carrying a reminder of her. (Or it could all go swimmingly, and he’ll get to gaze fondly at it for eternity. The romantic in him desperately wants to believe it will be that.)

Wise or not, he’d agreed to it, and Robin Locksley is a man who honors his debts. His word is one of the few things he has in this life and he won’t go back on it.

So he’s here, despite his misgivings, sitting in a chair near her station, his arm resting on a padded stand wrapped in cling film, empty plastic pots on the desk nearby, a bottle of dark ink beside that, while Regina readies the stencil for his tattoo-of-her-choosing.

She’d gone with a dark crest, a lion in the center of it, and insisted on his forearm because “forearms are sexy.” He’s not sure what that means, but he does know he intends to roll his sleeves up a lot more often since she’s said it.

When she comes back, he tells himself it’s his last chance to back out.

He doesn’t.

He’s in this; they have a deal. He’ll just have to make the relationship work, that’s all. Despite their differences.

He watches her work, watches her don gloves, prep the needle, fill the little pot with black ink. She lays the stencil in place and asks if the placement is good, and it is, so he nods. 

Her eyes narrow slightly, studying him. The corner of her mouth tips up in a smirk. 

“Nervous?” she teases. 

“No,” he denies. He shakes his head, and insists, “No, not nervous.”

“You’re a terrible liar,” she tells him, sitting back in her chair and asking, “Worried about the pain? Because it’s really not that bad—”

“It’s not that.”

“Okay. Then what?”

Robin takes a breath, opens his mouth to tell her, then decides it will make him sound like a bloody idiot and likely muck up the good thing they have going. For once he’s going to shut his gob, he decides, telling her, “Nothing; it’s fine. Go ahead.”

“No,” she tells him.

“No?”

“No.” She crosses her arms to make her point even more firm. (He feels like a cad for noticing the way her crossed arms have pushed her cleavage up into the deep vee of her black t-shirt, but he’d spent a considerable amount of time after their last date becoming intimately familiar with the area, so he thinks he may get a pass.)

“We had a deal,” he reminds her.

“We do,” she confirms, “But this is permanent, and something is bothering you. So I’m not going to do it until you tell me.”

“You’ll think it’s stupid.”

“Probably.”

“ _I_ think it’s stupid.”

She snorts. “Well, now I really want to know.”

“It’s just something my mate said. He got tattoos with his ex and now he thinks of her every time he sees it, and… I really, really fancy you, and I have no doubt that every time I look at this tattoo, I will think of the woman who gave it to me. Of how brilliant she is, and how lovely. And talented.” She rolls her eyes at the flattery, but it doesn’t sell—she’s smiling too genuinely for him to believe the compliments bother her in the slightest. “And I really hope that ten years from now, I’m not also thinking about how I cocked it all up, or how she turned out to be a mass murderer or something.”

If possible, her eyes roll harder. “You’re worried about me tattooing you because you think I might be secretly killing people?”

“Well, when you put it that way…” he mutters, feeling like an utter arse.

“Oh, _Daddy_ ,” she sighs, knowing the way it makes his ears heat when she calls him that. (She’d done it after that third date, gasped it as he’d trailed his tongue over the swell of her breast, and he’d stopped to glare while she’d cackled at him.)

“Stop,” he says to her, the same way he had then. 

“But it gets you so riled up,” Regina smirks, and then her expression shifts to something more understanding, and she tells him, “If you’re really that worried about it, you can reneg on our deal. But would it make you feel better if I told you that Roland picked it out?”

Robin blinks.

“He… what?”

“The other day, in the park. I showed him three things I was thinking of for his Daddy’s tattoo and asked which one he thought you’d like best. He picked the lion.” She shrugs, nonchalant, and adds, “I was going to go with sexy mermaid, but the hobbit vote trumps mine.”

He’s utterly charmed by the idea that she’d have Roland make such a decision, and that she’d done it behind his back with no hope of credit or new relationship brownie points. “You had Roland choose.”

“I did,” she nods, reminding, “It’s permanent. And I thought it would make him feel special.”

“I’m sure it did. He thinks you’re magnificent. I’m surprised he didn’t ask for a tattoo of his very own.”

Regina smirks, and says, “Oh, he did. A matching one, in fact. I told him he was too young, but… there may be a temporary tattoo in the same design tucked away in my purse. For later.”

Robin’s heart melts even further and he offers his arm up again, meaning it this time when he tells her, “Go ahead.”

“You sure?”

“Well, we can’t let Roland down, now can we?” 

“No, we can’t. And in the future, if this doesn't work out,” she begins as she reaches for the gun again and leans over his arm, “you can look at it and think of your son. Not me.”

“Exactly,” Robin agrees, trying to hide the fact that he actually _is_ a bit nervous about the pain by teasing, “Plus, I am reasonably certain you won’t go on a killing spree.”

“Reasonably,” she chuckles, the moment before the needle pierces his skin. The pain is hot and buzzing, like strong electric shocks carving a line over his flesh, and Robin grimaces while her attention is not on his face. 

She may not be an axe murderer, but he decides she’s definitely a liar—it does hurt, quite a bit. But when it’s over, the tattoo looks rather badass if he says so himself, and the look on Roland’s face that night when Regina peels away the backing on his matching tattoo makes every moment of pain worth it.


End file.
